Through the Looking Glass
by irishka1205
Summary: This was originally set as one time drabble. But turned into a prologue for an entire story. 5 months pass since the boys separate and Sam has dropped off the face of the earth. Dean goes looking for him. Who will he find? AU post 5.02
1. Prologue

"They say he comes at night, when the moon cannot shine through the thick clouds and no one else can hear your cries. That's when he comes."

"Who?"

"The giant with black eyes."

"There's no such thing as giants."

"But he is. He's so tall. Just like a giant."

"He's not a giant. He's just a man who's tall."

"Whatever. But he does have black eyes."

"You've seen him?"

"Yes. When the monsters came. They come often now. The monsters do. They took our parents. Made them do things. We thought… But then he came."

"He saved us."

"He did?"

"He saved a lot of people here. Everybody's talking about it. And not just here. They say he saved people in towns nearby. Everybody's talking about him."

"About the man with the black eyes."

"Yes."

"Did he say anything?"

"No, he doesn't talk. He never says anything. But they say that he's looking for something."

"What?"

"Redemption."

"What's redemption?"

"It means forgiveness."

"Why would he want forgiveness? He saves people. He's a hero."

"Maybe he did something wrong once."

"Mister, are you ok?"

"Yeah…I… Any idea where he lives?"

"No. Nobody knows. He comes in the shadows and leaves in the shadows."

"But he always comes. If the monsters come, he always comes."

"They fear him. The monsters. They're scared of him. They try to run but he doesn't let them."

"What do you mean?"

"They scream and beg him to spare them. Sometimes they ask him to send them back. But he doesn't. "

"What does he do?"

"I don't know. But we saw bright lights and loud screams and then our parents were…our parents again."

"I told him thank you, but he just left."

"You're looking for him, aren't you? The man with the black eyes? You're looking for him."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because…he's my brother."


	2. Chapter 1

The bright sunshine blinded him as Dean stepped outside, leaving the small diner and the two witnesses behind. His head was still reeling from everything he had learned since arriving in town. This morning's interview with Alex Grenier and his little sister only cemented what Dean suspected for a while now.

As he headed back to the Impala, Dean pulled his cell phone out of the pocket of his jacket and hit the redial button.

Bobby answered on the first ring. "Anything?"

"I think you were right," Dean replied. "Sam's here."

"You saw him?"

He hated hearing so much hope in Bobby's voice. Not because he didn't think he'd find Sam this time. But because based on everything he knew, Dean wasn't sure exactly _who _it would be.

They hadn't heard from Sam in over four months. At first, after the two of them decided to go their separate ways, Sam would still contact Bobby on pretty regular basis. Just to let Bobby know he was alright - to really let _Dean_ know he was alright. Dean knew that's what he was doing. And as much as he tried to pretend that he didn't care, he appreciated Sam making the effort. Of course, Dean wasn't fooling Bobby in the least either. Which is why any time he heard from Sam, the older hunter would call Dean right away. "Heard from Sam," he'd say. "He's good."

But then it just stopped. No calls, no emails - nothing.

They tried tracking him down. Dean even found a few leads, but they got him absolutely nowhere. It was as if Sam had dropped off the face of the earth, which meant one of two things - Sam was either dead or his addiction was too strong to fight. Whatever it was, Dean had to live with the belief that his brother was gone.

That was until three days ago when Bobby called him with a story about a couple of small towns right next to each other, rundown by demons. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, not these days anyway, except for one thing - the witnesses' accounts of a man who somehow fought the demons and won; the man who 'made the monsters go away in a flash of light'.

Dean refused to get his hopes up. He didn't dare. It was either a story the townsfolk created to make themselves feel better, to help them sleep at night as the world around them exploded or it was simply a trap laid for him by demons.

But Bobby was adamant about going to check it out. "Either you go or I go," he had told Dean. "And I can't drive, so you're gonna have to anyway."

Dean knew better than to argue with the man. So he got in the car and drove.

From the very first story he heard, he knew it was Sam. The description of the man, the way he _killed_ demons - everything fit.

Sam was alive. But the thought brought mixed emotions for Dean. He just couldn't let himself rejoice because Sam killing demons meant only one thing - demon blood.

"No," he finally said. "But he fits the description."

"So, what's next?" Bobby asked.

"I have to find him."

"Any idea where he might be?"

"No." Dean thought back to the conversation he just had with the two kids who saw their parents get possessed by demons the previous week. "He comes when the monsters come."

"What?"

Dean knew what he had to do. "I have to find me some demons."

"And how you gonna do that?"

He stopped and looked around, trying to figure out where demons would hole up in this place. An outline of an abandoned warehouse loomed on the horizon. "I have an idea."

"Just don't do anything stupid."

"You know me."

"Exactly."

"Bye, Bobby." With that he hung up and stuffed the phone back in his pocket.

It took him less than five minutes to drive to the warehouse. Dean pulled the car to the curb and turned the ignition off. He scouted the place. The street in front of the building was completely empty, not a soul in sight.

Dean got out of the car and walked over to the trunk to get the demon killing knife. Armed, he headed inside.

The place must have been empty for a while now: it was obvious from the first glance that nobody was bothering with the upkeep. He moved slowly, careful not to make much noise as he stepped on debris, rocks and dirt, knife on the ready.

Dean heard her before he saw her. Spinning on his heels, he swung the knife but she blocked his arm with ease and strength that only a demon could possess. Dean screamed as she twisted his arm, forcing him to lose his grip on the knife. It slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor.

The moment she loosened her grip on him, Dean quickly managed to free himself from the demon. But before he had even a chance to locate the knife, he was flying through the air until his back hit the wall. It had been a while since he'd been pinned to a wall by a demon. And he really didn't miss that feeling of complete helplessness.

"Well, well, well," the demon possessing the brunette smirked. "Dean Winchester. I just can't believe my luck. I guess the rumors are true after all."

"Rumors?"

"About the rift between the Winchester boys. It's been going around for a while. But I just didn't think it was possible." She smiled. "I mean, the stories about the length you and your brother would go for each other - well, your bond was epic. But I guess '_was' _is the operative word here, huh?" She took a step closer to him. "What? Didn't like your baby brother ending the world?"

Dean grit his teeth as she laughed in his face. The last thing he needed was a discussion about Sam and their relationship with a freaking demon. "What makes you think it's true?"

"Well…you _are_ alone here, aren't you?" She walked over to where Dean had dropped the knife and picked it up. Slowly, obviously enjoying all of this, she made it back to where she still had Dean pinned to the wall. "I mean, here I am, about to gut you like a wild animal you are and your all-powerful brother is nowhere in sight."

She traced the very edge of the knife from Dean's chest down to his abdomen. And even though it did nothing more than just scratch his skin under the shirt he was wearing, Dean held his breath. "You give it a shot," he growled at her.

"Oh, I'll give it more than just…"

Suddenly the front door went flying through the air, collapsing on the floor in the middle of the room. Even in the loud banging of wood crashing on the floor, Dean heard the demon gasp. It was an unmistakable sound - the one of fear. The fear of the man stepping inside the room.

His face was hidden by the shadows, but Dean knew who it was. And so did the demon.

"No, please," she begged as the knife fell from her hands. "This is not why…"

She didn't get to finish as her whole body lit up from the inside, her scream filling the room.

It was over in seconds.

Dean suddenly found himself free to move around. He pushed away from the wall and looked from the body on the floor to the man in the doorway. He still couldn't see the other's face. Dean tried to say something, but his mouth was dry and no words came out. Instead he just stood rooted in place as he watched the man turn and walk away.

"Sammy?" he finally managed to utter.

The man paused for just a second, but continued walking.

It took a few seconds before Dean was able to force his legs to move and he ran out of the building after his brother. But the street was empty once again with no traces of Sam left behind.


	3. Chapter 2

Part 2

Dean spent the next two days driving around searching for Sam. He checked out all the motels in the area but nobody matching Sam's description rented rooms in any of them.

Frustrated, tired and hungry, Dean finally decided to call it a day and made a stop at a diner near his motel to grab a burger and some fries to go. As he waited by the entrance for his order, he looked at the pictures covering the wall. His eyes drew to the picture of a family standing in front of a cabin in the woods.

Dean turned and looked out the window, his eyes settling on the sea of dark green swaying on the horizon.

"Hey, are there a lot of cabins in the woods?" he asked, as the waitress brought out his order in a white paper bag. His stomach growled as the smell of fresh hot fries reached him.

"A few," the brunette replied, smiling at him. "You interested in renting?"

She was obviously flirting with him and Dean couldn't miss the opportunity to use it to his advantage. "Maybe." He stepped toward her and smiled the most genuine smile he could muster. "You know where I could maybe get a list of owners?"

"Town hall, of course," she replied leaning in closer. "My friend Allison works there. I'm sure she'd be more than happy to help you. Especially if that means, you'd be sticking around for a while."

"She'd really do that for me?" Dean asked coyly.

"Oh, trust me," she replied. Straightening up, she handed him the bag of food. "I put some extra fries in there for you."

Dean took the bag and turned to leave. "Thanks, Marie," he winked at her and quickly exited the diner.

An hour later he had the list of all the registered cabin owners in the area. Allison was extremely helpful, even offering to call some of them on his behalf. Dean, gratefully and with a big smile on his face, declined.

Back in his motel room, he immediately started calling the owners, his food long since forgotten on the front seat of the Impala.

The fourth call was the one that delivered results when Dean spoke to an old lady who lived away in Florida. She said that she hadn't met the new tenant, they only spoke on the phone, but he had been renting the cabin for a little over four months and always paid on time via money order. The name he gave her was William Thompson. Getting the directions to the cabin, Dean hung up.

******

He directed the car through the narrow path, weaving between rows and rows of trees. Finally, Dean saw a cabin sitting in the middle of a small clearing up ahead. He pulled in and killed the engine.

Dean looked at the cabin, trying to see any movement inside. But the drapes over the lone window had been drawn and no sounds came from the inside. Looking around, Dean couldn't see anything out of the ordinary either. Only an old dirty motorcycle stood in front of the house. Dean couldn't for a second imagine Sam on a bike and once again began to doubt whether Sam would be renting a cabin in the middle of the woods. But he was already here and he couldn't leave before checking it out.

He got out of the car and walked slowly toward the house. Climbing the small steps to the front door, Dean raised his hand to knock when suddenly the door opened, revealing Sam on the other side.

Whether it was the shock of Sam actually being here or simply seeing his brother for the first time in five months, but Dean once again found himself at a loss for words. Sam seemed to be in a similar situation and the two of them just stared at each other for what seemed like forever.

Dean took in his brother's appearance. Sam hadn't changed in the least, except maybe his hair was even longer now. Two scars on the right side of his face that hadn't quite healed were a glaring reminder of battles Sam had faced alone.

"Are we gonna stand here all day or you gonna let me in?" Dean finally managed to ask.

Sam looked like he was considering his options for a moment, but finally stepped aside and pulled the door open to let Dean inside.

Dean stepped in slowly, looking around. The place was tiny with only basic necessities - a little kitchen with a sink, a fridge and a stove. A square table stood in the middle of the room and the bed was on the other side of the room, next to a fireplace. However small, this place definitely looked as if Sam had been here for a while. News articles of supernatural activities around the country were splattered on the wall next to the bed. Sam's laptop sat on the table. His clothes folded neatly on a chair by the bed.

"How did you find me?" Sam asked as he walked to the kitchen, leaving the door wide open.

Dean turned to finally look at his brother. Sam's size, his height made the place look even smaller. His voice and face void of any emotion. "Five months and that's all you got to say to me?"

Sam let out a loud sigh as he stopped and looked up to meet Dean's eyes, his face relaxing finally. "You want a beer?"

Dean nodded in response. Sam opened the fridge and pulled two bottles of beer.

"How's Bobby?" Sam asked as he worked the bottle opener, his back turned to Dean.

"He's good," Dean replied, doing his best to keep his voice steady. "You should call him."

Sam became still for just a second. When he turned around, his face once again showed no emotion. He walked over to Dean and handed him his beer, then made his way back to the kitchen area.

The air was thick with unspoken words and Dean had no idea where to even begin. This was Sam. This was his brother. But after everything that had happened, after the five months of separation, he felt as if he walked into a house of a complete stranger.

"So, you've been here? All this time?" Dean asked, his eyes once again scanning the room.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Why here?" This place made no sense. There was nothing out of the ordinary about it, aside from the slightly larger than normal number of demonic possessions. But lately you would have been hard pressed to find a place that didn't have a demon problem.

Sam shrugged his shoulders. "Why not here?"

Dean studied Sam's face, searching for anything, something that could give him answers to what the hell was going on with his brother. But he found nothing in his brother's hazel eyes. "Well, in case you haven't heard, the whole world is going to hell in a hand basket."

That seemed to strike a chord with Sam, because his expression hardened. "I'm aware," he ground through his teeth as he put the beer bottle down on the counter.

"And you're just hiding out here?"

"Something like that."

That was it. He tried so hard to keep his emotions in check, but seeing Sam completely unaffected by anything was more than he could take. Dean slammed the bottle on the table and took a step toward Sam. "So, you're killing demons again?"

"Like you said, the world is going to hell. I'm trying to do something about it."

"Killing demons."

"That's the general idea, yeah."

Sam's calm voice and demeanor, as if he was talking about nothing more important than where to have dinner, only fueled Dean's anger.

"What happened to 'I give up hunting' and 'I learned my lesson'?"

Sam sneered as he pushed away from the kitchen counter and stood up straight. "Why don't you just ask me what's really on your mind, Dean."

It was the same question that had been on Dean's mind for months. "Are you drinking demon blood again?"

Sam remained quiet for a few seconds, seemingly studying Dean's face. "If I say no, would you believe me?"

Dean wanted to believe his brother. More than anything, he wanted to believe that Sam would not go down that road again. Not after everything. But all the evidence pointed to one explanation.

"That's what I thought," Sam said. He turned away from Dean. "It's time for you to go."

"I'm not going anywhere. Not until I get some answers."

Spinning on his heels, Sam glared back at Dean, showing emotion for the first time since the two reunited. "What's the point?" Sam shouted. "You're not going to believe a word I tell you. So why don't you just come up with answers you want to hear and get the hell out of here."

The anger in Sam's voice felt like a bucket of ice was dumped on Dean. But he refused to let it sway his resolve. "No," he shook his head.

"Get out!" Sam yelled, taking a step closer.

"No!"

Before Dean had a chance to react, Sam grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and shoved him toward the door. Dean struggled against his brother's hold, finally managing to push away and free himself. But before he had a chance to even take a breath, he was flying out the door and onto the grass outside.

Every bone and muscle in his body screamed at the rough treatment they received as he landed heavily on the ground. The fall knocked the air out of him and it took a few seconds for him to be able to take a deep breath in. Slowly, he pushed himself up into a half-sitting position and looked back toward the door.

Sam stood in the doorway, his face mostly hidden by the darkness coming from inside the house. But there was no mistaking the color of his eyes - black - as he met Dean's.

"Don't come back," Sam said and closed the door.

*******

Sam stood still until he finally heard Impala's roar. He closed his eyes and listened as the sound echoed and then finally disappeared in the distance.

He missed it. That sound. The lullaby. The music of it. The sound of home. When he walked away from it all those months ago, he truly believed he would never see it again, never hear the sound of the engine singing. And when he heard it earlier today, even though he knew he shouldn't, even though he knew what he had to do to get Dean to leave, he couldn't help but smile. Just for a second, a fleeting moment. And then reality kicked him in the gut and brought him back down to earth.

When he could no longer hear the car that took his brother away from this place, Sam walked over to the bed and collapsed on the edge, his head falling in his hands. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. He was tired, so tired. More and more instances so close together had left him drained, physically and emotionally. And even though he knew it was coming, seeing Dean again was so much harder than Sam ever imagined.

"Was that really necessary?"

Sam dropped his hands to his sides and slowly raised his eyes to meet the ones belonging to the red-haired intruder. He was used to the angels just popping in and out of his place without so much as a knock.

"Yes. No." He shook his head. "I don't know," he finally admitted. He really wasn't sure what the right approach was. He only knew that somehow, some way he needed to make sure that Dean left town. And fast. "Cas was supposed to keep him away from here," he said accusingly, turning his eyes toward the angel once again.

Anna took a step closer, her eyes burrowing into Sam, her expression softening just a bit. Out of all the angels Sam had met so far, she was the only one who was more human than angel. She was the only one who could really understand human emotion. The one who seemed to get what it was that he was giving up.

"He found reports about somebody matching your description fighting demons. What did you think was going to happen?" she said softly.

Sam knew she was right. Even though he let him go initially, five months of no contact, no news on whether Sam was even alive would make Dean go looking for him. And if Dean found out that Sam was here, there was nothing anybody could have done to stop him. This thought stirred something inside of Sam that he didn't dare touch for a long time now, something that warmed his body from somewhere deep inside - the thought that his brother still cared about him, that somehow they were still brothers, that what he had done did not completely destroy the bond they shared all their lives.

Of course, the logical side of him realized that it would never be that simple. Even if Dean was here simply to make sure he was ok, it didn't erase everything else that had happened. And more importantly, he still had a job to do - a job that did not involve Dean, could not involve Dean. Not until it was time.

"He can't be here. It's too dangerous," Sam said and was relieved to see Anna nod in response. It was a slight nod, but it was enough to let Sam know that they were on the same page. "You need to make him leave."

"How do you propose I do that?"

"Tell him there's a job," Sam offered. "Tell him anything. Lie. I don't know. And if he doesn't listen, there's always your forehead-touch teleporting mojo."

"And how long you think that will keep him away?"

"As long as possible." He just needed to buy some time. That was all he needed at this point. Just...time.

Anna nodded once again.

Sam dropped his head in his hands, exhaustion taking hold once again.

"Sam?"

He felt her hand on his shoulder, a touch so light, it was barely there.

Sam raised his head and met her eyes once again.

"I don't know how long I can keep them away," Sam said. He looked away, hating to admit weakness. "They're more and more powerful. And in bigger numbers."

"Do you think they know?"

Sam shook his head. "No. Not yet. But they will. It's only a matter of time. And when they do, even I won't be able to stop them."

Anna nodded and in the blink of an eye was gone.


	4. Chapter 3

Part 3

Dean slammed the glass on the counter and waved for the bartender. He realized that getting smashed was probably the last thing he needed, as he tried to sort out exactly what the hell was going on in this town and with his brother. But his back still screamed at the abuse it took earlier when he hit the ground, his ego was almost as bruised as his back after being thrown out of the house by his brother, and he was still reeling from finally seeing Sam after all these months. Then there was a feeling - his sixth sense - telling him that there was something more going on than just demons trying to take over the town.

"Hello, Dean."

He spun around at the sound of a familiar voice. "Well, well, well," he smiled. "You are definitely _not _the angel I was expecting."

"You shouldn't be here, Dean," Anna responded.

Ignoring her words, Dean smiled instead. "It's been a while. What have you been up to?" She looked beautiful, and Dean couldn't help remembering their one night together.

She didn't seem to share the sentiment, though. "There are demons everywhere."

Dean sneered and pushed the glass away. "No worries. Sammy will take care of them. Did you know that he can kill demons with his magical powers? He just looks at them and they go poof. It's pretty cool except for that whole 'drinking demon blood and going evil' part."

Anna's only response was to touch his head, and in the next moment he was standing in a completely different room. The adrenaline rush that had flown through him sobered him up immediately.

Dean looked around, relieved to find himself back in his motel room. He turned his attention back to the angel standing before him. "What the hell? You can't just transport people like that."

"The place was crawling with demons. Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for you to be in this town right now?"

"No," Dean sneered. "But I'm sure you'll tell me."

"Sam has worked too hard for you to blow it all now, just because you have issues with your brother," she chastised. It took her a moment before she realized what she had just given away.

"Sam?" His heart was suddenly beating hard against his chest, any affects of alcohol long gone. "You knew he was here? All this time?"

He got one simple word in response. "Yes."

Dean clenched his jaw, trying not to let anger get the best of him. "Did Castiel know?" He knew the answer before she said it. Another quiet "Yes" and Dean couldn't hold it in any longer. "All this time, all these months I asked him for help find Sam, and he said he couldn't."

"He was honoring his word," Anna responded in the same calm voice.

"What word?!"

"To your brother."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean's felt his stomach twist as another realization sat in. "He's working for you?"

"We found a weapon," was her response. "A very powerful weapon."

Dean's brain tried to catch up with the change in subject. "Powerful enough to kill Lucifer?"

"We believe so."

"Who's 'we'?"

Anna hesitated before proceeding to respond. "There's a group of us. Those who don't agree with how...the higher ups handled the situation."

"Underground angel movement?" Dean couldn't stop himself from chuckling at how ridiculous this all sounded.

"Something like that."

"Ok." So far he was following along just fine, except for one very important thing. "What does that have to do with Sam?"

"Your brother is the only one powerful enough to go up against demons."

Of course, how could he not see it before? Sam would never stay in one place for this long, especially when he was trying to hide from those looking for him. Not unless he was forced to. "He's guarding it?"

"Yes."

"If this thing is so important, why not just take it up to heaven or wherever you guys set up shop? Isn't it safer than keeping it on earth?"

Anna looked away but didn't say a word. And he understood. She, just like Castiel, was being hunted by the other angels. And even if they weren't, neither one trusted the archangels with something so important. Now all the pieces were falling into place, and the picture that emerged made Dean's blood boil once again.

"Ok, so let me get this straight; your buddies decide to play hide and go seek with the devil and screw the whole world to hell. You find a weapon that can actually kill Lucifer but you don't trust anybody to guard it, so Sam is stuck doing your job." He took her silence as confirmation that he had his facts straight. "Last year Cas kept telling me how dangerous Sam's abilities were, that I had to stop him. But now none of it matters. He's useful to you, so to hell with what it's doing to him, right?

"Dean..."

"You saw what happened when he used his powers last time. How do you know it won't just overtake him again?"

Anna took a step toward him. "I have faith," she said. "You should too."

With that, Dean found himself alone.

****

After Anna left, Dean tried to go to sleep. After four bottles of beer with no sleep in sight, Dean switched to coffee in hopes of now staying awake. As the dawn broke on the horizon, Dean headed to one place where he hoped he would finally get answers.

He pulled the Impala up to the house. Sam's bike stood a few feet away - a sign, Dean hoped, that its owner was home.

Dean got out of the car and headed toward the house. Just as he began to climb the stairs though, he heard pounding sounds coming from behind the house. Slowly, Dean walked past the stairs and along the wall of the cabin. As he turned the corner, he saw the origin of the noise.

About twenty feet away there was a small clearing amid tall trees. There was Sam in the middle of it all, chopping wood; his strikes precise and purposeful as if he had done it a million times before.

Dean wasn't sure how long he had been watching Sam when finally his brother looked up. Slowly, Sam lowered the axe to his side, his eyes meeting Dean's. The two of them just stood like that, staring at each other.

Finally, Sam raised the axe and swung it straight into the tree stump, anchoring it firmly in the wood. Dean took it as his sign to proceed forward.

"Sending Anna to convince me to leave? Really?" he said as he slowly walked up to where Sam stood, waiting for him.

Sam's lips parted into a tiniest smile as he slowly removed his gloves. "It was worth a shot."

"Just like tossing me out the door?" Dean had a suspicion, and the guilty way Sam's eyes dropped to the ground confirmed it.

"Sorry about that."

Dean nodded, ignoring the pain in his back. He understood at least part of it. For whatever reason, Sam wanted him away from this town. Now all he needed to know was why. "So, you're working for angels now? I guess that's a step up." He tried, but he just couldn't hide the bitterness from his voice.

Sam's eyes snapped up, but he didn't respond right away. "It's complicated," he finally said.

"Of course it is," Dean sneered. "Why don't you try and dumb it down for me then? Maybe I'll get it."

"Dean..."

He didn't come here to fight with Sam, but at this moment Dean had the hardest time controlling his emotions. "No, you know what? I've had enough. Enough lies, enough secrets, enough bullshit to last me a lifetime. So, how about some truth for a change?"

Sam let out a loud sigh. "The truth is the less you know right now, the father you stay away from all of this, the better it is, trust me."

Despite himself, Dean let out a bitter laugh. "Trust you? And why exactly would I do that?"

He regretted the words the moment they passed his lips and more so when he saw their impact on Sam's face. His brother looked as if Dean had punched him in the stomach. He supposed he might as well have.

This wasn't why he came here. He wanted answers. Having spent the last five months wondering if Sam was even still alive, fearing that Sam didn't have enough strength to stay away from the demons and all that it entailed, Dean needed to know.

Sam was the first to break the silence that stretched between them. He dropped the gloves on the ground and stepped forward. "Look, Dean, I know..." His voice trailed off, his face going blank at first, staring off into space. Then just as quickly his expression changed to worry, an almost frantic panic as he focused his gaze back on Dean. "You have to go. Now!"

Before Dean knew what was happening, Sam was pushing him toward the house. They just left the clearing when suddenly Sam stopped and turned around, staring into space once again. But Dean quickly realized what Sam was looking at. Demons. Lots of them. They were surrounded. It felt almost as if the time stood still as the two of them looked around, trying to assess the situation. Dean considered making a run toward the house, but that wouldn't solve anything, the demons would just follow them.

As if Sam was reading his mind, the taller man turned to look at him. "They can't follow us here."

"How come?"

"Devil's trap," Sam explained.

Dean focused his eyes on the ground surrounding the cabin, but all he could see was grass and dirt.

"It's underneath," was his answer. "Move toward the cabin. Try to stay close to the trees," Sam instructed.

Dean turned to look at his brother. It was obvious that Sam knew something; why the demons were here, what they were after, what they were planning for the Winchester boys.

"How many?" Dean asked.

"About twenty."

Dean looked around them again, but all he could see was trees. Not for the first time he wondered about the extent of Sam's abilities. Not only could he kill demons, but he sensed them at a distance as well, or so it seemed.

He was just about to make a comment about that when Sam suddenly spun around and raised his arm. In the distance Dean could hear a scream and flickering light. When Sam suddenly turned to meet his eyes, Dean instinctively knew what had just happened.

"Nineteen now," Sam confirmed his suspicion. "We have to move."

The two took the slightly longer way back to the house, making sure they stayed close to the trees as Sam instructed: Dean first, Sam following closely behind.

They were only a few feet away from the cabin when it happened. Dean heard Sam scream his name and shove him to the ground. Before he knew what happened, he heard two shots fired from somewhere between the trees. In horror, he watched as Sam collapse to the ground, blood staining his shirt.

The shots continued to ring over their heads as Dean crawled over to where Sam was sprawled on the ground, clutching his side. He pulled Sam up to the closest tree, both of them hiding behind the wide trunk, and quickly pushed Sam's hands away to assess the damage. The news wasn't good. Sam was bleeding pretty badly, and they were still surrounded by demons armed with guns and no way of getting to help of any kind. So Dean did the only thing he could: he pressed hard on the wound with both his hands, trying to slow the bleeding.

"Sorry, Sammy," he uttered as Sam groaned at the pain.

"I think I can hold them off long enough for you to get to the car," Sam said between shallow breaths.

Dean looked up in the direction of the Impala. He couldn't even see it from where they were. What was worse was the fact that the cabin was surrounded by trees that were very close to one another. At this moment Dean finally realized why Sam settled for a bike instead of a car. It was easier to get around in the woods, between all these trees.

"There's no way I can get the car in here," he said, turning his attention back to Sam. They needed plan 'B'.

"I know."

Dean met Sam's eyes and immediately understood what his brother was telling him, what he wanted him to do. Dean felt as if a bucket of ice was dumped on him.

"No," he said firmly. "No way. I am not leaving you here."

"Yes, you are."

"Sam, no."

"Dean...listen to me. For once. Just listen, dammit. There are more important..."

"I am not leaving you here to bleed to death."

Sam let his head drop back, leaning it against the tree as he squeezed his eyes shut, though whether it was from pain or sheer exasperation, Dean couldn't tell. But then his brother's expression changed to that of relief. A moment later Dean knew why - they were surrounded by four other beings, two of whom were Anna and Castiel.

Dean let out a sigh of relief and turned his attention back to his wounded brother. "You're going to be okay," he said, ignoring the fact that his hands were covered in Sam's blood. "Sammy?"

But there was no response.


	5. Chapter 4

Part 4

Dean paced the floor of the waiting room. Almost three hours had passed since Sam was wheeled off to surgery and Dean was left standing alone in the hallway, staring at the blood on his hands. Three hours spent wondering if he would ever see his brother again, or if the two of them would never get the chance to set things right.

"Mr. Thompson?"

Dean looked up at the name he gave them when he brought Sam to the ER. It was the alias Sam had used while staying here, and so Dean figured it was the safest one to go with.

A man in green scrubs walked toward him and held out his hand to shake Dean's. "I'm Dr. Riggs. I operated on your brother."

"How is he?" Dean asked, his heart pounding so hard, he thought it would burst out of his chest.

"The surgery went well. We were able to stop the bleeding and repair the damage."

"So, he's going to be ok." Dean held his breath as he waited for doctor's response.

"Our main concern right now is the amount of blood loss he suffered."

"But…" Dean let out a shuddering breath. "He's gonna be ok, right?"

The doctor considered him for a moment before replying. "He's strong, healthy. I'm cautiously optimistic. But we won't know for sure until he wakes up."

Dean nodded. It was more of the same 'wait and see' approach he was so familiar with from their many hospital experiences.

"He's in recovery now. Once they move him to a room, the nurse will come and get you." With that, the doctor walked away, leaving Dean alone in the waiting room once more. He watched as the man who just worked on saving his brother's life disappeared down the hall.

As Dean turned around to go back to the chair he had occupied on and off, he found he wasn't alone. Castiel stood before him and Dean felt the anger of the previous few days rise up in him again. Except now it was directed at the angel in the trench coat.

Dean walked past Castiel and sat down. "I don't have anything to say to you right now."

"Dean…"

Dean stood up, too angry to sit still. "How many times I asked you to help find him? All this time? You knew. You knew where he was and you lied. You're no better than a demon."

Castiel's expression remained unchanged. "I was keeping a promise. There is a reason why Sam did not want you here."

"Really? What reason?"

"He knew this would happen. He tried to protect you."

Dean stared at the angel, eyes wide open. After years and years of putting Sam above everything, protecting him with everything Dean had, he had no idea how to react to hearing that Sam was keeping him away in order to keep him out of the crossfire.

His anger deflated as quickly as it flared up, Dean collapsed back into the chair and let out a loud sigh. "He pushed me out of the way." He had spent the last three hours running through what happened earlier that morning over and over and he came to the same conclusion: Sam pushed him out of the way and took the bullet instead. "It should have been me, not him."

Castiel came over and sat down next to Dean.

"Since when do demons use guns anyway?" Dean asked, trying to focus on things that he could get answers to right now. The rest would have to wait until Sam woke up. "Aren't they more about ripping your guts out and flinging you around the room?"

"Your brother is very powerful, Dean."

"Yeah, I kinda got that," Dean replied. He wasn't sure he quite understood it, processed it yet, but he _knew_ it.

"He's more powerful than most demons on earth. And they know it now."

Dean couldn't quite wrap his head around what Castiel was telling him yet, but it still didn't answer his original question.

The angel seemed to sense Dean's continued confusion. "As powerful as Sam is, he is still human. He's vulnerable to the same things all humans are vulnerable to."

"What…" And then the realization finally sat in. "Use a human weapon to kill a human."

"Yes."

Dean closed his eyes and dropped his head into his hands, trying to understand, trying to imagine what his brother had faced over the past five months - alone.

"And this is all because of some weapon?"

"The sword. Yes."

Dean sat up straight and looked back at Castiel. "Sword? As in Michael's sword? I thought it was just the code word for 'Dean is Michael's meat suit' your old buddies came up with."

"No," Castile responded quietly. "Not Michael's sword."

"What then? How is it so powerful?"

"We believe it comes from God."

Dean raised an eyebrow as he stared at the angel. Only Castiel could say something like that with a straight face and totally mean it. "God? So, you're back on that train again? I thought you saw the light." He shook his head in disbelief that they were once again having this discussion. Apparently angels never learned. "How did you even find the thing?"

"Sam told us where it would be."

"Sam? How would he know?"

Castiel remained quiet for a few seconds, studying Dean's face. "He didn't tell you?"

Before Dean had a chance to ask what the hell Castiel was talking about, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Mr. Thompson? I'll take you to your brother's room if you'd like," the nurse said.

Without so much as a glance back at the angel, Dean stood up and followed the brunette, stopping only when they reached the elevators. He was vaguely aware of the nurse pressing the button to go up, his mind still focused on everything that Castiel had just revealed to him. What had Sam gotten himself into now?

"Was it the monsters?"

The woman's voice brought him out of his thoughts and he looked up to meet a pair of blue eyes. "What?"

"Did the monsters get him?"

Dean opened his mouth to reply but found that he had no idea how to respond to that question. It was obvious that _monsters_ was something the people in this town were unfortunately used to by now. But years and years of hiding the existence of the supernatural world from the _civilians_ was hard to break, even as the world around them was collapsing into hell.

The elevator finally arrived and the two of them stepped inside.

"I recognized him. Your brother," the nurse spoke again as the doors closed. "He's the one who saved my life. My husband's too."

Dean swallowed hard. He knew what was coming next - had heard that story so many times since the first time he stepped foot in this town. And yet he found himself wishing for her to continue. All these stories were pieces of the puzzle that was his brother's life over the past five months. He found himself listening more attentively than ever, trying to find any little detail that could fill in the blanks.

"When the stories started about monsters, people with black eyes, I didn't really believe it. I thought, people were just making it up. You know, with everything else going on in the world right now, stories about a superhero who had come to save the world wasn't all that surprising. But then the black clouds came." She shook her head, as if remembering the events that had transpired in her life. "I still don't really understand what happened. But it's like being paralyzed. Like being a prisoner in your own body. I thought I was dying. But then _he_ came. And he freed us."

Dean could almost see Sam bursting into this woman's house, killing the demons inside her and her husband.

The elevator stopped on the fourth floor and Dean followed her down the hall. She came to a stop in front of the room 404. Through the open door Dean could see his brother lying still in the bed in the middle of the room.

"Nobody knew who he was. He saved so many people and nobody even knew his name."

Dean looked away from his brother's still form and met her eyes.

"I just want you to know, there are a lot of people praying for your brother right now."

He wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he settled for a simple "Thank you," his voice gruff and heavy with emotion.

"He's a hero," she said, smiling at Dean. "Your brother is a hero."

The lump in his throat threatened to suffocate him. He tried to swallow, to push down the emotions that coursed through his body long enough to say something to this woman but lost that battle. Instead, Dean walked into the room and stared at the still figure in the bed, with wires and tubes attached to him, a machine tracking his vitals - proof that he was still alive. This was the man who had saved all these people - his kid brother who would damn himself in order to save a stranger.

******

The first thing he heard was a slew of voices somewhere in the distance. He couldn't quite make out what they were saying or recognize who was speaking. He didn't really care at this moment. All he wanted was to go back to sleep, give into the welcoming darkness that tried to pull him in. But his awareness of things around him grew.

Sam opened his eyes, squinting immediately from the bright light. His body felt light, almost as if he was floating and there was no usual soreness or aches and pains that he was accustomed to upon waking up - the results of years of battles they waged, injuries he suffered.

The ceiling above him was white, illuminated by the sunlight flooding the room. No cracks, no stains from water damage that he normally woke up to - he knew right away that he wasn't at the cabin. But where was he?

"Sammy?"

Sam turned immediately in the direction of his brother's voice. "Dean?" He was surprised by how raspy and weak his voice sounded.

Dean got up from the chair in the corner of the room and walked over to him, relief evident on his face. "It's about time you woke up."

Sam racked his brain, trying to figure out why Dean was here, looking so worried, and where exactly _here _was. And more importantly, what the hell happened. He raised his head slightly off the pillow and looked around. The sudden pain in his abdomen made him gasp and drop back down on the pillow, memories finally flooding in. He remembered now - Dean finding him, the demon attack and getting shot.

"How long was I out?" he asked, turning his attention back to his brother.

"About two days."

Sam felt his heartbeat speed up as he processed that piece of information. Two days. He was out of it for two days. Which meant that the demons had two whole days to find a way to get the sword. The possibility of them getting their hands on the weapon sent adrenaline rushing through his body. Sam pulled the blanket to the side and pushed himself up, ignoring the pain in his stomach.

Suddenly two hands were pushing him back down.

"What the hell are you doing? Lie back down!" Dean ordered him, his hands Sam's shoulders, holding him down.

"I have to make sure it's ok." As hard as he tried to get up, the other man was stronger.

"Stop it, dammit. The sword is ok. It's safe."

Sam stopped struggling and looked up to meet Dean's eyes. "What?"

Seemingly convinced that Sam wasn't going to try to make an escape, Dean let go of his shoulders and took a step back. "Cas and the rest of the Halo brigade got it. So, just relax, ok? Don't want you ripping your stitches."

Sam took a deep breath in and slowly let it out, trying to slow his heartbeat.

"So," Dean walked over to stand at the foot of the bed, his eyes trained on Sam. "A sword that supposedly can kill Lucifer?"

He knew this conversation was inevitable, but Sam had hoped he would have more time to come up with the right way to tell Dean, to explain what he knew. For now he settled for "It _will_ kill Lucifer."

"Yeah, well, I'll believe it when I see it. So, this was the big secret? The reason why you dropped off the face of the earth?"

Sam nodded in response.

"Why couldn't you just tell me? At least let me know that you're still alive?"

"I couldn't."

"Why the hell not?"

Sam tried not to wince at the anger in Dean's voice. "You couldn't be anywhere near that thing," he tried to explain. "If the demons put two and two together, if they knew, they wouldn't stop until you were dead. And I couldn't let that happen."

Dean's expression changed from anger to confusion. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Obviously Castiel didn't tell Dean everything about the sword. "You still don't get it, do you?"

"Get what?"

Sam let out a long, slow breath. There was no easy way to say this, no easy way to make his brother understand. "You're the one who kills Lucifer, Dean."

Dean looked as if this was the last thing he expected to come out of Sam's mouth and it probably was. His eyes wide, he just stared at Sam for a few seconds before letting out a laugh. "Oh, you've gotta be kidding me." Shaking his head, Dean began pacing the room.

"You don't believe it," Sam stated, not at all surprised by Dean's reaction.

Dean stopped pacing and looked back at Sam. "Do you?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Sam dropped his gaze to his hands, trying to figure out how to tell Dean the truth. He decided to just go for it. Raising his eyes to meet his brother's, calmly and quietly he said, "I saw it happen."

Dean froze in place. "Wha…what are you talking about?"

"How do you think I knew where that demon would attack you, Dean? Or where all those possessed people were?" Sam considered keeping the rest of it to himself, but the look on his brother's face told him that Dean still wasn't convinced. "How do you think I knew where that bullet would go?"

The shocked, horrified look on Dean's face was exactly the reason why Sam wished he could have kept it all to himself, but if he had any chance of making Dean believe his story, Sam had to tell him everything and that included the information about how he managed to save Dean's life two days earlier.

"So, you…how…I mean…how?"

Sam shrugged. "Premonitions. Or visions. Whatever you want to call them."

"I thought, you hadn't had those in years. Ever since Yellow Eyes bit the dust."

"I hadn't. For a long time. But then they came back and with a vengeance."

Dean nodded, though Sam wasn't entirely sure that he believed him. Sam remained quiet as he watched Dean once again pace the room, letting the other man digest all this information.

Finally, Dean came to a stop by the foot of the bed. "So, you saw what exactly? Me killing Lucifer with the sword?"

"Yes."

"How do you know it was the future? This smells more like something Zach would pull. Or hell, even Lucifer himself, setting up an elaborate trap."

Dean trying to rationalize all of this wasn't a surprise. In fact, Sam expected it. "It wasn't," he simply replied.

"Or a hallucination."

Sam felt his stomach clench suddenly, as he met his brother's eyes. "Hallucination?"

"Well, with everything else that's happening to you, it's not all that surprising if it was."

"Everything else?" The realization of what Dean was referring to, what Dean was implying set in and Sam found it hard to breathe all of a sudden. "You still think…I'm not…" His voice cracked and his eyes burned with emotion. "There really is nothing I can do to make you trust me again, is there?"

Dean remained quiet.

Sam looked away, unable to take the look of disappointment and distrust written all over his brother's face. He knew he shouldn't have been surprised by this. What he did, the way he betrayed Dean - of course Dean would not believe a word he said. But still, deep inside Sam hoped that somehow one day they would be able to rebuild their relationship. But obviously it was beyond repair.

"You should go."

"Sammy…"

The last thing Sam wanted right now from Dean was pity. "Please, just…just go."

He closed his eyes, fighting back the pain in his chest and his stomach, trying so hard not to hear as his brother walked over to the chair, picked up his jacket and after pausing briefly by the door, walked out of the room.

And once again, Sam was alone.


	6. Chapter 5

Part 5

Dean downed another shot of scotch. He closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth that spread through every part of his body. Unfortunately, the affects of alcohol hadn't reached his head and the thoughts, the memories of everything that had transpired in the last three days, were still there, screaming at him. Just for a moment he wanted to forget. Just for a few seconds he wanted to not have to think about it.

"You do realize that those demons are still around, right?"

Dean slowly put the empty shot glass down on the bar counter and turned in the direction the familiar voice came from.

"You know, I'm starting to think that whole 'no angels can find you' spiel was just false advertising. You seem to have no problem finding me," he said as Anna climbed on the bar stool next to him.

"You weren't at the hospital and there are only two bars in this town," she responded.

Dean snorted a laugh. "You think you know me?" They were practically strangers and here she was, acting as if she had known him all his life.

"No. But Sam does."

Dean felt his stomach twist at the sound of his brother's name. "He told you what happened?"

"He didn't have to."

He held her gaze, unspoken words passing between them. He never considered before whether angels could read human's mind, but as he stared into her eyes, he couldn't help but wonder if she knew every single thought that ran through his head.

Dean looked down at the shot glass in his hands. "So, do you actually believe what he says is true? That what he saw will happen?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation in her voice.

Dean looked up, surprised. "Why?"

"Because I've seen what Sam can do," she replied, her voice soft, quiet and full of conviction. "What he _had_ done. I've seen him go up against armies of demons alone. With no fear. No hesitation. He believes it so adamantly, so powerfully that he's willing to risk his life, his _very soul _to protect this sword; willing to give up what matters most to him - _his family _- in order to keep you safe, in order to make what he saw come true. So, how can I not believe?"

Dean found himself at a complete loss for words as he listened to Anna describe what Sam had gone through in the last five months - alone. And he wanted to believe it too. But he couldn't forget what had happened. And he couldn't let history repeat itself.

He cleared his throat, finding his voice once again. "Last year he believed that getting hyped up on demon blood was a good idea. How do you know this isn't just another thing some demon or Lucifer himself put in his head? Best case, what if it was just some dream Sam had one night? How do you know that what he saw is the future and not just wishful thinking?"

"That's not really the question you should be asking here, Dean."

"Is that right?" He scoffed. "Then please, enlighten me. What _should _I be asking? And don't say anything about faith."

A warm, soft smile spread on her lips as she stood up and leaned toward him. "But that's what it all comes down to in the end, Dean," she said quietly. "Do you believe in your brother?"

With that, she vanished.

Dean twirled the empty shot glass in his hands, Anna's words ringing in his ears. He had been so angry at Sam for so long, kept telling himself that after what his brother had done, there was no way he could ever trust him again. That thought tore his insides, clawed at him every second of every day - the belief that Sam had changed so much that Dean no longer knew him, could no longer trust him. What he realized now was that he was wrong. Plain and simple. Sam was still Sam. His approach to things might be a bit different - alright, _very_ different- but he was still living by the same principles their father had drilled into them since childhood - do the right thing, save innocents and kill the bad guys.

And watch each other's backs.

Somehow, in all this mess, Dean forgot the most important rule - the one thing that he always lived by, his commandment, his mantra - _take care of Sam. _

Suddenly, it was crystal clear to him what he had to do. Dean tossed some money on the bar and quickly walked outside. The hospital was only five minutes away and he made it back there in no time at all. He needed to talk to Sam, calmly this time, and clear the air once and for all.

It was after visiting hours and the halls of the hospital were empty. Dean quickly made his way toward the elevators, trying to remain unnoticed by the nursing staff. Once on the fourth floor, he headed to Sam's room. He froze in his tracks when he found Castiel standing in the middle of the room. Even more surprising was the fact that Sam was nowhere in sight.

"What's going on?" Dean asked, stepping inside.

"Is Sam with you?" Castiel asked with what would pass for the look of concern written on his face.

Dean's stomach lurched, but he tried to stop himself from going into a full blown panic attack. "No," he replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "He was here when I left." He looked around the room, part of him wanting to believe that if he willed it hard enough, Sam would suddenly appear. "How long have you been here?"

"Twenty-three minutes."

If this was any other time, Dean would have made fun of Castiel's tendency to take everything literally and answer everything with so much precision. But the only thing on his mind right now was the fact that his brother - his _injured_ brother - was missing. Dean paced the room, hopelessly trying to find some clue as to where Sam had gone.

"We should go back to the cabin," Castiel said. "Sam would want to make sure the sword is safe."

Dean stopped pacing and looked up at him. "No, he knows you guys are taking care of it."

"Perhaps…" Castiel trailed off, seemingly uneasy about what he was about to say.

"What?"

"Things have been…uncomfortable between you two."

Dean grit his teeth and glared at the angel. "He gave up everything for the past five months to protect that damn sword. You think he'd run off and leave something that's been so important to him just because he and I had a fight? That's not Sam." And as the last sentence passed his lips, he suddenly knew exactly why Sam left. "Demons. He went after the demons." He should have known Sam would do something this stupid.

"How can you be sure?"

Dean let out a loud sigh. The answer was simple. "Because I know my brother."

He ran his hand through his hair as the panic threatened to suffocate him. The idea of Sam going up against a bunch of demons alone, supernatural abilities or not, was terrifying in and of itself. But Sam was injured and these demons knew what his vulnerabilities were now.

Dean turned to Castiel. "There's absolutely no way you can find him?" .

"No."

"Dammit," Dean hit the chair with his foot, letting out his frustrations, trying to fight the rising fear in the pit of his stomach and failing. Pushing the guilt over leaving Sam alone in the hospital and the panic building inside his chest aside, Dean tried to focus on something to do instead. "Then we should check out anywhere the demons might be. We should start with that warehouse on the edge of town." He was already heading toward the door as he was finishing the sentence.

"Dean?"

Dean stopped and looked back at Castiel over his shoulder, irritated at the angel's inability to grasp the urgency of the situation.

"I may not be able to find Sam," Castiel said slowly. "But I _can_ find demons."

"Oh," Dean turned to face the angel. "Right."

*****

Sam winced as he slowly unfolded his body from the beat up Camero he stole from the hospital parking lot. As he shut the door, the world around him began to spin and he grabbed hold of the roof of the car to steady himself. His whole body ached, still weak from surgery and the blood loss. The pain from his wound radiated up and down his body. And the blood stain on the front of his shirt confirmed Sam's suspicions - he tore his stitches.

He knew this was a very stupid move. He was in no condition to take on any demon, let alone twenty or so of them. But the vision he had earlier left him with no choice. He had a job to do - hurt or not, and he was damned if he didn't get it done.

Sam pushed away from the car and moved toward the house at the end of the street. As he neared it, he saw the light on inside. Through the drawn drapes he could see shapes moving - demons.

Sam stepped behind a large tree in front of the house - for cover as much as support - and tried to catch his breath. The stroll down the block took every ounce of energy he had in him. He leaned heavily against the trunk of the tree, letting it do most of the work in holding his body up as he tried to gather the strength needed for what he had to do next. He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing. Suddenly images flooded his head. As usual, it only lasted a few seconds and when it was all over, Sam exhaled slowly and opened his eyes. He knew now what would happen next.

Pushing away from the tree and ignoring the intense pain in his abdomen, Sam moved toward the house. As he neared the front door, he focused his attention on the three demons upstairs that he saw in his vision. It was more difficult when he couldn't actually see them, but he felt them and that was good enough for what he had to do.

He heard screams come from the window above the garage. As the last flicker of light flashed above - all three demons now dead - Sam raised his hand and sent the door flying off the hinges. The door crashed with a loud thud in the middle of the room.

Sam stepped inside, immediately noting position of each and every demon surrounding him.

"You got some serious death wish, kid." A demon possessing a forty-something man stepped toward him.

Sam sneered. "I think you got that wrong, considering how many of you I've killed."

"There's plenty of us left," the demon possessing a teenage girl said.

"Bring it on," Sam scoffed.

He could feel their hatred directed at him. Every single demon in this room wanted nothing more than to rip his guts out and wear them as a trophy. Every one of them just waiting to strike first.

"That's some big talk from someone who can barely stand up straight," the demon who appeared to be the leader of this group, spoke again.

"I can still kick your ass," Sam growled, his body tensing in anticipation of what was coming next.

The four demons behind him ran at him but Sam was faster and quickly took control of them with no effort at all, rooting them in place.

While he kept them at bay, unable to move, Sam turned his attention to the leader. Whether it was due to the fact that this was a more powerful demon or Sam was simply too weak right now, but it took all Sam had in him just to prevent the demon from advancing toward him.

The first time it ever happened - the black eyes - he didn't even know it. He felt the darkness that enveloped him as he killed Lilith, knew that it came from somewhere so deep inside of him, it rocked him to the core, terrified him. And for a long time afterwards he wanted to pretend he didn't feel it, believe that this part of him didn't exist. But over the course of the past five months he learned that he could not only access it, but he could also control that power, direct it in such a way that made him unstoppable against demons.

And this was the moment he needed that boost of power. Sam focused all his energy on exterminating every single demon in this house. As his eyes filled with black and the darkness enveloped him from the inside, screams erupted all around him. And then, suddenly it got very quiet and Sam was alone, standing amidst bodies scattered on the floor.

His head pounded, his stomach burned with pain, and the room began to spin. He tried to grab onto the chair nearby, but missed and his knees hit the floor hard.

"Sam!"

Suddenly, there were two hands holding him up as Sam clutched his stomach.

"We need to get him back to the hospital," he heard Dean say.

Sam looked up, fighting the dizziness and the pain, his eyes meeting the blue ones of the angel standing in the doorway.

"They know," he managed to say.

That was the reason he risked coming here. In the vision he got earlier that afternoon, he saw them making plans to come after the sword - no longer just because its power drew them here. Now they knew what it was Sam and the angels were protecting and its purpose.

Castiel stepped forward. Just like Sam, he understood the ramifications of demons finding out the true power of the weapon. "Are you certain?"

Sam swallowed hard and tried to reply, but as he opened his mouth, a wave of pain swept through his body and he was only able to nod. Everything around him began to blur and then he was falling.

"Sammy!"

He tried to focus on Dean's voice, hang on to it, but a different kind of darkness enveloped him now and he no longer had the strength to fight it.


	7. Chapter 6

Part 6

Sam knew he was back in the hospital before he was even fully awake. The floating feeling and lack of pain meant that he was back on pain medication. That, combined with the strain of the day before, made him feel more exhausted than ever. However, the presence in the room kept him from giving into the much needed sleep and instead, Sam opened his eyes.

The room was almost consumed by darkness, except for the small lonely lamp on the bed stand that illuminated just a couple of feet surrounding it. But Sam could still see him - Castiel, standing in the shadows in the corner of the room.

Sam felt the angel's silent gaze on him. Sam was the first to look away, his eyes drifting over to his left - to his brother fast asleep in the chair by the bed. And suddenly Sam understood what Castiel was doing here - watching over both of them.

Dean snorted quietly and pulled his leather jacket he was using as a blanket up his shoulder, but remained asleep.

Sam knew that this changed nothing. Things were irrevocably broken between them. And the battle with Lucifer still loomed ahead. But for just one night he let himself focus on the fact that both of them were alive and Dean was here. And with that one lonely thought, Sam gave in to the sleep he so desperately needed.

*****

The next time Sam opened his eyes, he was no longer at the hospital. The bed creaked with his every move, the room smelled of musty furniture, and the familiar crack in the ceiling above told him that he was at Bobby's.

No longer pumped full of pain meds, Sam's body screamed at him with every single move as he got out of bed. As soon as he stepped out of the room, he could hear the voices coming from downstairs. Carefully so as to not to rip his stitches again, Sam walked down the stairs.

Once he was at the bottom, he paused to catch his breath and tried to see if he could hear what the people in the living room were talking about. But before he had a chance to make out any words, he was accosted by Ellen, who as soon as she saw him, enveloped him in a big hug.

"I'm so glad you're ok," she said when she finally let go of him and took a step back. "We were getting worried."

"We?" Sam asked, most confused.

"Oh, the others are in the living room going over final details," she responded, as if that was supposed to make any sense to him. "I'm going to start setting up."

Before Sam had a chance to ask any more questions, she was already going down the stairs into the basement and there was no way Sam could keep up with her in his condition. Instead, he turned to head to the living room.

Dean, Bobby, Castiel and Anna hovered over the desk, looking over something with extreme focus and attention. Dean was the first to notice him.

"Hey, you're up," the older Winchester said, stepping back from the desk and straightening up.

"Well, if it isn't the sleeping beauty," Bobby added as he turned toward Sam as well.

Sam kept his eyes on Dean. "What's going on?"

Dean ducking his gaze didn't escape Sam. His body tensed up as if he was getting ready for battle. Something was up.

"Well, hello to you, too," Bobby snapped, navigating his wheelchair toward Sam.

Sam shifted his gaze to Bobby. The man's tone of voice might have sounded harsh, but his face said only one thing - _'I'm glad you're here and ok'._

Feeling guilty on top of everything else, Sam managed a tiny smile as he took a step toward the older hunter and shook his hand. "Hey, Bobby."

"It's been a long time, kid."

"I know."

Bobby sized him up for a moment before letting go of Sam's hand. "You disappear like that again and, wheelchair or not, I will kick your ass. Got it?"

Bobby was obviously trying to sound angry and menacing but Sam couldn't help but smile at the emotion behind the words. "Got it." Shifting his attention back to his brother, Sam once again asked, "So, what's going on?"

And once again Sam noticed Dean refusing to meet his eyes.

"Just putting some final plans together," Dean replied. "Look out schedule, things like that."

Sam felt a knot form in the pit of his stomach. "What are you talking about?"

Dean finally looked up at him and Sam knew the answer before his brother opened his mouth. "With the demons knowing about the sword, we needed to move it."

"And you moved it here?"

"This was the best place possible. Panic room's already demon proof. A few additional touches and no demon will go anywhere near that thing."

Dean's demeanor, his matter of fact tone of voice, made Sam's blood boil. "You have no idea what you're dealing with." Sam could barely control his anger.

"What the hell is your problem?" Dean exclaimed.

"My problem is that you're putting all these people in danger because you don't trust me," Sam yelled back. "This has nothing to do with protecting the sword. You still think that I'm drinking demon blood. That's what this is about." He was vaguely aware of the fact that they were now alone in the room.

"That's not true."

"Oh, please," Sam scoffed. "Of course, it is. And I get it, Dean, I do. After what I did, how could you not think that? But even before this whole mess with Lucifer and Ruby, you just never could accept the fact that I had these abilities. That your brother was some kind of supernatural freak of nature. After all, if it's supernatural, we kill it, right?" Sam glowered at Dean, throwing the words Dean uttered long ago back at him.

"No." Dean's voice was quiet, but strong, with no hesitation. .

"We both know you're lying." Sam hated how his voice cracked, full of emotion, full of pain. He wanted so badly to believe that his brother could accept who Sam was. But he knew that would never happen. And he had a job to do. _Protect the sword. Protect Dean. Until it was time. _

With nothing left to say between then, Sam turned away and headed toward the door.

"Don't you walk away!" Dean's voice was filled with so much emotion, it stopped Sam cold in his tracks.

Slowly, he turned to once again face his brother.

Dean took a step toward him. "I'm trying here, Sam. I'm just trying to help. You don't have to do this alone."

Dean's plea cut through him like a knife. But the memories of the last five months, of the last two years were still too fresh. "I've been doing a lot of things alone, Dean. For a long time now."

"I know."

Surprised by that admission, Sam looked up at Dean.

"I didn't handle things well, I know that." Dean continued. "I wasn't there for you when you needed me and I'm sorry." He took another step toward Sam. "I'm sorry, Sammy. I really am. But you don't have to do this alone anymore. Let us help. Let _me_ help."

Sam studied his brother's face, trying to figure out if Dean really meant it. "I thought you didn't believe in this anyway."

Dean crossed the distance between them, coming to a stop only a couple of feet away. "You believe it," he said. "And that's good enough for me."

Sam felt his chest tighten and his eyes stung. For a moment he wondered if he heard it right. Could it really be Dean saying these words to him, telling him flat out that he trusted him? He didn't dare to think it possible and yet he was desperate to believe it just the same.

Swallowing hard around the lump in his throat, Sam nodded.

The loud breath his brother exhaled told Sam that Dean wasn't at all sure how this thing was going to go either.

"Bobby's going to hate having all of us around all the time," Sam said, his way of letting Dean know that he made his decision.

Dean grinned. "Well, he has no one to blame but himself. This was his idea."

Sam returned the smile.

"I'm gonna go help them set up," Dean said as he headed toward the door. "And you sit your ass down before you bust your stitches again. I'm not driving you to another hospital, you hear?"

Sam smiled again, knowing full well that if it came to it, Dean would break his neck trying to get Sam to the hospital. Just like he did last time.

"Dean?" he called when Dean was almost out the door.

Dean turned around, the look of concern once again plastered on his face.

"Thanks."

The two of them stared at each other until finally Dean nodded and gave Sam one of his patented goofy smiles. With that, Dean turned and left the room.

Sam walked over to the couch and carefully lowered himself down. Adrenaline rush that kept him going earlier had passed and now he just felt weary and tired. He leaned back and closed his eyes, trying to breathe through the pain in his abdomen.

"You ok, Sam?"

Sam opened his eyes to find Chuck standing in the entryway.

"Hey, Chuck," Sam attempted a smile. "They brought you in to make sure I didn't just imagine the whole 'Lucifer killing sword' thing?"

Chuck shook his head as he walked up closer to Sam. "I've actually been here for a while now."

That was news to Sam as Castiel didn't share that piece of information with him before. "How did they get you without the archangels blowing you all to pieces?"

Chuck shrugged. "Anna put some mojo on me or something. No idea. All I know is that the dickheads can't find me now. Which is just fine by me."

Sam nodded, sharing the sentiment. The angels brought nothing but misery to everybody Sam knew, and Chuck was no exception.

"Actually, we're all protected from them now. Demons, too. They even put something on the house itself so those bastards can't find it," Chuck continued.

"Good," was all Sam could muster. No matter how much supernatural protection was put on them, Sam knew that it was only a matter of time before either demons or angels, probably both, came knocking on their door.

'Sam, about that last battle, how much of it did you actually see? I mean, how far..."

Sam's pulse began to race as he studied Chuck's face. He knew immediately where that question was going. "All of it."

Chuck's eyes widened. "All? Then you..."

"Yes," Sam stopped him before he could finish.

"You saw it?"

Sam let out a long loud sigh. Yes, he saw it. He saw it every single time he closed his eyes. "Yes," he said once again, his voice heavy. He looked away, unable to see sorrow and pity on the other man's face.

"Did you tell Dean?"

Sam's head snapped up. "No," he said quickly. "And neither will you."

"But Sam..."

"No one can know about this," Sam raised his voice. He knew they could be easily overheard, but he had to make sure Chuck understood. This stayed between them.

"But...maybe we can stop it," Chuck tried to argue.

And Sam was grateful to him for that. For trying to find a way to change what was coming, but Sam couldn't allow it. Not when so much was at stake. "No," he said more forcefully this time. He pushed himself up off the couch, ignoring the burning pain in his side. "No," he said again, his face now only inches away from Chuck's.

"But..."

"Chuck, stopping Lucifer, stopping the apocalypse is the only thing that matters. We have one chance. One. And if we follow the plan, every single step, everything we know, then we have a chance to actually win this. But change even one tiny thing and..." Sam shook his head, afraid to even consider the possibility of a different outcome. "I'm not going to take that chance. This is too important. You can't tell anybody."

For a moment he thought that Chuck was still going to argue. Finally, Sam got the answer he was looking for in a form of a nod.

Sam let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He started to turn to go back to the couch when something else crossed his mind. "Hey, Chuck," he said, turning around. "When this is all over...don't tell him I knew."

Chuck's eyes widened once again as the implication of Sam's request sunk in.

Sam tracked back to the couch, desperately needing to sit down as the pain and exhaustion were taking hold of his body.

"It's yet another secret I kept from him," he said as he slowly sat down. "I...don't...I just don't think he'd forgive me for that one."

The thought of Dean hating him for keeping something so big a secret was almost unbearable, especially now that they seemed to be on their way to rebuilding their relationship.

"I don't want him to hate me." He said it so quiet, he wasn't sure the other man even heard him. Sam raised his eyes to meet Chuck's. "Please," he asked, ignoring his voice breaking. "Please."

Chuck simply nodded in response, his eyes full of sorrow.

"Thanks."

Sam watched as Chuck left the room. He leaned back and closed his eyes, images immediately floated before him.

Sometimes he wished he could stop them, stop all of it. Be normal again. But then he never really was normal. And this was their way of defeating the devil, of saving the world. And he was ready to do whatever it took to make sure that the future he saw would come true, regardless of the cost.

****

_From Merriam-Webster_

_Main Entry: he·ro_

_Pronunciation: \ˈhir-(ˌ)__ō\_

_Function: noun_

_Inflected Form(s): plural heroes_

_Etymology: Latin heros, from Greek hērōs_

_Date: 14th century_

_1 a : a mythological or legendary figure often of divine descent endowed with great strength or ability b : an illustrious warrior c : a man admired for his achievements and noble qualities d : one that shows great courage_


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